What Lies Within
By Mickey

Status: Completed 1/17/2009

Season: 1

Spoilers: None yet

Categories: Angst, Challenge, Drama, Friendship, Whump

Content Warnings: None for part 1 or 2, Language in later parts.

Archive Permission: Ask first. I'll probably say yes.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue.

Word Count: 1,185

Author's Notes: Written for the stargatedrabbles list's challenge. Use the phrase: Jack (insert character) swore and yelled, 'Fall back, now!" and/or the following words: Shaft, Odour, Ancient Gene, Green, and bonus word: Tomorrow. I used them all but 1 so far. I'll get the other one in there somewhere! Can you spot which one is missing? I'm American, so I used the American spelling for odor. This takes place after "The Defiant One", but before "Hot Zone". Many thanks to Cheryl and Annie for the beta and to Cheryl (again!) for the title.

John took a deep breath of the crisp, clean air as he surveyed the lush green surroundings of P46-110. The forest ahead of them seemed to stretch on for miles in every direction. Judging by the overgrowth on the trail before him, it, and the Stargate hadn't been used in a very long time.

"I do not believe anyone has been here in quite some time," Teyla remarked, echoing his thoughts. "It is lovely."

Nodding in agreement, John adjusted his grip on his P-90. There were no signs of life, human or animal, but he wanted to be ready just in case. The ancient database where they'd found the gate address indicated that the planet had held no human life when they'd set up their research facility. There had been no mention of the local wildlife, but that didn't mean there hadn't been any. When he heard the whoosh indicating the disintegration of the wormhole, he ordered, "I'll take point. Rodney, you're behind me. Ford, cover our sixes." Without another word, he moved forward.

"What is this, kindergarten?" Rodney grumbled. "Why are we walking in a row?"

"Because I like playing ducks," John said, smiling. Then seriously, he added, "Stick close. This planet may appear deserted, but there's no way to tell for sure."

McKay complained, again, about how it was a scientific mission and that he should be running things then mumbled something that sound remarkably like "paranoid military grunt with an unhealthy propensity towards shooting first and not asking questions".

A distinctive snort made it's way to John's ears. Apparently, Ford had made a comment that offended Rodney. Grinning, John shook his head and intentionally shut out the rest of the conversation, focusing on the nearly nonexistent trail ahead of them.

Several hours later, the two of them were still at it. "All right, children, that's enough," John called over his shoulder. He heard an audible sigh of relief that he knew came from Teyla. Looking at McKay's flushed face, he called for a fifteen-minute rest. After getting a drink and eating cold MREs, as he didn't want to waste time setting up camp, they were back on their feet.

At first, McKay had stayed silent. John could only imagine what he was thinking about. The ancient database hadn't been specific about what kind of research was being done at the facility, other than that it was related to genetics, but McKay had been sure it must've been important. However, the longer they walked, the more frequently and loudly he began to complain.

Glancing at his watch and the darkening sky, John decided it was time to stop for the night. They'd been walking for over eight hours, not including their lunch break and the short rest break. Based on McKay's calculations and the info from the database, they were nearly three quarters of the way to their goal. They'd made damn good time, despite McKay's frequent protests about the pace he'd set. Spotting a small, less densely forested area not far ahead, he led his team towards it. Detecting no immediate threats, he slid his pack off and declared, "We'll make camp here for tonight."

"We'll make camp here for tonight."

"It's about time," McKay whined as he dropped his pack. "My feet are killing me."

"Not as much as they are killing me," Ford groused.

Looking offended, McKay turned towards the lieutenant and asked, "How can my feet be killing you?"

"Because I had to listen to you whine about them for the last two hours!"

Rodney opened his mouth to say something back, but John cut him off. "That's enough," he barked. "Teyla, McKay, set up camp. Ford and I will set up a perimeter." Before McKay could say anything further, John turned and walked away with Ford following close behind.

As they walked, Ford came up beside John. It was obvious to John that the younger man wanted to talk about something specific, but seemed unsure as to how to approach the subject. "Whatever you have to say just spit it out."

Ford inhaled deeply, holding his breath for a moment then spoke, "Sir, I know that Colonel Sumner didn't want you here because of that thing in Afghanistan."

Before Ford could say anything further, John whirled on him. "How did you know about that?" He demanded.

Ford gulped, taking a step back at the hard look on his commanding officer's face. "I uh, I overheard him discussing it with General O'Neill before we left. He was trying, again, to get you removed from the expedition team."

John relaxed. Getting angry with the lieutenant wouldn't do any good. He was just curious and John couldn't really blame him. "Go on."

"If you don't mind me asking, sir, what happened?"

John sighed. The "incident" was something he would much rather leave buried in the past. As quickly as he could, he informed his junior officer about what had happened on his doomed rescue mission. "Luckily for me," he finished, "they decided against an Article Thirty-Two hearing for disobeying a direct order and went with an Article Fifteen. Not so luckily, depending on how you look at it, my CO put an official letter of reprimand on my record and transferred me to McMurdo, both of which pretty much guarantee that I won't get past the rank of Major."

Ford seemed to consider what he'd been told, remaining silent for several minutes. "For what it's worth, sir, I think Sumner was wrong about you. I think you got the shaft."

John was silent for a moment. Not being the touchy feely type, he gave Ford a small, crooked smile as he nodded, "Thanks."

Ford returned the smile.

Thirty minutes later, John and Ford joined the others around a small fire. Rodney was hunched over his data pad, staring at it intently, a cup of steaming coffee beside him. Teyla was sitting a few feet away eating an MRE.

"Tell me McKay didn't drink all the coffee again," John teased as he sat beside Teyla.

McKay, nose still buried in his work, either didn't hear the remark or simply chose to ignore it. Grinning, Ford sat beside him.

Teyla smiled, "He did not." She handed a steaming cup to John. "I thought you might like some."

Accepting the cup gratefully, John nodded. "Thanks," he replied, pulling his pack close to him and digging out an MRE. "He eat?" he asked, pointing at McKay.

"Yes," Teyla replied, grinning ruefully. "Quite a bit, actually."

John chuckled, finished his meal in silence then checked his watch again. "Alright, it's getting late folks. Let's hit the sack." He dumped the last of his now cold coffee on the ground. "Teyla, it's your turn for first watch, I'll take second then Ford. Rodney, you're last. We'll break camp at 0630." Without another word, John slid into his sleeping bag, which Teyla had thoughtfully setup for him, and drifted into a light sleep. Although they'd only been on roughly three dozen missions together, the team had gelled well. Each member knew what was expected of him or her.

TBC